Rugby at Harvard

(The author is a junior on the rugby team.)

MOST PEOPLE discover purely by accident that Harvard has a rugby team. Perhaps they mean to go the Saturday morning soccer game, and take the wrong turn at the Stadium. Maybe they're looking for the Palmer Dixon tennis courts, and happen upon a scrimmage a few yards away. In any case, only a small knot of students know that a Harvard rugby team exists.

To many observers, rugby looks like disorganized football, but any Harvard rugger will vehemently protest that it is merely unencumbered. The game is played on a 100-yard field, wider than a football gridiron, and has goalposts at either end. Crossing the goal and touching the ball down, called a "try," is worth three points, and a conversion kick immediately afterwards counts for two. In addition, penalty kicks, which also count for three points, are awarded for certain infractions.

Each side consists of 15 players, including eight forwards and seven backs. No substitutions for any reason are allowed, and there are no time-outs or huddles. The game combines the continuous action of soccer and the crunching contact of football. Players wear a minimum of padding, the tackling is brutal, and pile-ons are tolerated until the runner gives up the ball and the chase resumes.

Since rugby has a club status at Harvard, there is no incentive for varsity letters or League championships. But Harvard ruggers claim that if the sport were formalized and the team had to adhere to regular practice sessions, cuts, and training rules, the essence of Harvard rugby would be destroyed. "Most of the boys love the friendly informality of the game," Harvard captain Sione Tupounuia said last week, "and this would make them reluctant to see it changed to a varsity sport."

Sione, a native of Tonga in the South Pacific, has added a great deal of the tradition to Harvard rugby in the four years he has played. Moderately tall, but solidly built, with dark skin and thick curly hair, he has a ready smile and friendly manner. His post-game ritual, which he claims is "some sort of a Tonganese war dance," has become an eagerly anticipated feature of the Saturday morning matches. The rugby parties and pig roats he gives are notorious.

Besides serving as captain, Sione doubles as team manager, unofficial coach, and schedule-maker. Matches must be arranged for all three Harvard teams each week, and due to the informality of most college teams, scheduling is often a challenge. But Sione feels that "if a boy shows enough interest to come out and play, I will show enough interest to arrange a match for him to play in."

This fall the squad has already faced teams from Holy Cross, Tufts, Cornell, the Boston Rugby Club, and Dartmouth, and matches with the Business School, Princeton, Brown, and Yale are scheduled as well.

"We always go out of our way to find places for teams to stay when they come to Cambridge," says scrumhalf Phill Ordway, "even if it's only a couch or a sleeping bag. If they'll come up and play us, we feel that the spirit of the game demands that we do our best to make them comfortable."

As an example, Ordway recalls the Cornell trip last year. "The Cornell guys literally took over a tavern in Ithaca to throw a party for us, put us up overnight, and even found us dates.

"So, naturally, we're going to try our best to reciprocate when they come down next year. The whole idea of the thing is what makes rugby such a unique sport."

The majority of Harvard ruggers feel that the parties after the matches are inextricably linked to the rugby experience. "So much of the game springs from the 'rugger spirit,'" wing forward Bill Sargent explains, "that it's unheard of to just play a match and then go home. We always have plenty of beer on hand right after the game, and we really look forward to drinking and joking with someone who's been trying to knock the stuffing out of us all morning." The "rugger spirit" also helps to temper what is potentially an extremely rough game.

"In rugby you always give your opponent the benefit of the doubt," says one Harvard player." "He's often quite involved in the game, and sometimes doesn't realize that he has hit you illegally. At any rate, if it's a flagrant enough violation the referee is bound to see it."

Rugby tradition dictates that sports-manship and self-control are as necessary to a rugger as are good wind and sturdy legs. Talking in the scrum, profanity, and protesting a referee's decision are not tolerated.

Since enjoyment is a key reason for a Harvard rugger's participation, practice sessions are usually free of the drills and routine work that characterize most other sports.

"We feel that the best practice for a match is playing one," says wing forward Hal Clark. The three weekly practice sessions are, in effect, scrimmage rugby matches in which members of the "C" team often find themselves playing besides members of the "A" team.

"There's no pressure on anyone to play on some day he might not want to,"Sione explains, "so boys are likely to think of practices as fun rather than dull requirements."

SATURDAY morning, Sione rises early to assume the first of several identities he will take on during the day--that of team manager. He sees that the red-and-white flags are properly placed along the boundaries of the field, that the oval-shaped rugby balls are procured from the equipment room in Dillon Field House, and that honey, oranges, and beer for half-time are bought.

The "B" team usually comes on first, beginning its match at about 9 a.m., followed by the "C" team at 11. The majority of the "C" squad are new players, gathering experience for a gradual climb to the "A" team.

"The 'C's' are a sort of farm club for the other two teams, "Ordway explains,. "Sometimes, people on the 'A' or 'B' squad are hurt or can't make it, and this gives the 'C's' a chance to move up quickly."

During half-time of all three games, Sione acts as coach, demonstrating proper passing techniques and pointing out errors in ball-handling or the scrum. Then, at 10 o'clock. Sione leads the "A" team onto the field in his final role, team captain.

Sione provides a source of brute strength for the scrum, but frequently carries the ball as well, and his 250-pound frame often takes three tacklers to bring down.

"He's modified his running style somewhat," Sargent says. "When he in his first came out for the team, he played in his bare feet. Now that he's using shin guards and cleats, he can concentrate more on running."

After the match, which Harvard usually wins-the squad was undefeated last fall and is 2-1 so far this season--comes Siones traditional war dance. All 14 teammates encircle him, slapping their thighs and giving enthusiastic vocal accompaniment, while Sione carries out the "sacred" team ritual. A beer party follows on the sidelines as players from both sides drink and exchange pleasantries. On certain weekends, Sione throws his famous pig roast.

"We get maybe three suckling pigs," says Sione, "and go down to Cape Cod, where a friend of the team's has a cottage. Then we prepare them on a spit, and while they're roasting, which takes several hours, everyone gets quite drunk. It's a lot of fun."